


This Modern Love

by alasse



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-11
Updated: 2012-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-01 19:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alasse/pseuds/alasse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer has invented an imaginary boyfriend for a longstanding work-related purpose. His friends (including Brendon) all know about the epic story of his pretend romance, and think it is hilarious. Eventually, Spencer runs into Brendon while out with the work people, and it turns out that, unbeknownst to him, Brendon has been Spencer's imaginary boyfriend all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Modern Love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **reni_days** 's prompt on the [bandom pretend dating festival](http://pennyplainknits.livejournal.com/306125.html)
> 
> A million thanks to [goingtoqueens](http://goingtoqueens.livejournal.com) for her invaluable help. Title from Bloc Party.
> 
> Available in podfic by the talented **fleurrochard** [here](http://fleurrochard.livejournal.com/643368.html)

“Smith!”

Spencer suppressed a sigh and turned to face his boss with what he hoped was a passable smile. “Yes, Mr. Preston?”

“Now, Smith, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that the annual firm charity is coming up two weeks…”

“Definitely not, Mr. Preston - I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Spencer said, trying to inject some non-existent enthusiasm into his voice.

“Quite, quite,” Mr. Preston smiled, obviously incapable of conceiving anybody who wasn’t _dying_ to spend an evening glad-handing their clients and pretending to laugh at terrible accounting jokes while sipping watered-down martinis. “I just wanted to make sure you knew, however, that your young man is more than welcome to come. We don’t discriminate here at Preston, Pearson and Pickering, you know? The partners and I took a workshop, even. We are very welcoming of the gays,” he finished, looking at Spencer earnestly. 

Spencer cringed inwardly, both at Mr. Preston’s choice of words and at the fact that even the partners were aware of the whole boyfriend… situation. 

“Right, right. Uh - I mean, he’s a musician, you know, so he gets busy sometimes, out of the blue,” Spencer improvised. “I’m sure he’ll try his best to make it, but -”

“Nonsense! Why would he miss an event that’s so important to you? No, no, he must certainly come. My wife and I just can’t wait to meet your Brendon.”

With that, Mr. Preston walked out of Spencer’s office.

“...shit.”

+

It had started out innocently enough, really.

About two weeks after he started in Preston, Pearson and Pickering, Accountants, Spencer was pretty much frog-marched to a bar for after-work drinks by the rest of the junior accountants. He figured out pretty quickly it was a transparent set-up: one of the assistants, Sarah, had a crush on him, and she hadn’t really gotten any of the hints Spencer had thrown her way.

When Spencer finally told her that he was gay, she looked at him with wide, disappointed eyes for about a second, and then regrouped. And said the words Spencer dreaded above all: “Oh, but I have a friend you should meet! He’d be just _perfect_ for you!”

So Spencer did what any reasonable person would do in his place, really. He told her he already had a boyfriend. 

Yes, a - no, he’s not a _fake_ boyfriend, who do you take him for? Right, well, his name is, uh, Brendon, Brendon Urie. And he’s a musician. Short-ish, dark brown hair, brown eyes. Yeah - very cute. No, no - we met in high school, actually, we started a band together. No, the band didn’t really take off, but we did. Sure, yeah, high school sweethearts, classic story. I’m sure I would’ve liked your friend, but you know how it is, true love and all. 

And that’s how the epic (fake) love story of Brendon and Spencer got started.

+

“Oh my god, Brendon, why did I ever think I wanted to be an accountant? I don’t want to be, okay? My soul is dying. Dying, every time I walk into that place. I’m gonna quit my job, learn how to play the sitar, and become a wandering hobo. What do you think? Will you still love me if I’m a penniless sitar player?”

Brendon looked up from whatever he was writing - a score, probably - and raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re spending too much with Ryan watching Moulin Rouge, Spence. A sitar? I mean, it’s a cool instrument, totally, but I see you more as a penniless tambourine player than a sitar player.”

Spencer dropped his briefcase on the table and put his hands on his hips. “Really? Here I am, baring my soul to you, expressing my inner-most feelings, and all you can do is comment on my instrument choice?”

Brendon rolled his eyes. “Spence. You fucking love your job. You took those career orientation exams _five times_ , and each time they told you accounting was your perfect match.” He looked at Spencer hard for a moment and then continued, “Ten to one this existential crisis is because Mr. Pickering bugged you about the annual gala again.”

“… it was Mr. Preston,” Spencer replied grudgingly. 

“Ha! See? You do love your job. Your bosses are just a little - uh, involved.”

“That’s one way of putting it. They all know about the boyfriend thing! Seriously, don’t they have anything else to talk about but my fake love life? Mr. Preston told me they liked the gays,” Spencer wailed, shoving his hands into his hair.

Ryan chose that moment to walk out of his room and into the living room. He gave Spencer a passing glance and turned to Brendon. “Why is Spencer having a hair freak out?”

“Oh my god, Ryan, how many times do I have to tell you, I don’t have hair freak outs!” Spencer complained.

Ryan just looked pointedly at his left hand, which pulling his hair in the back. God, Spencer hated having a friend who’d known him since middle school. Especially a skinny, metaphor-loving one who amused himself by classifying the ways in which you freaked out

“The gala again. His bosses are really looking forward to meeting Spencer’s totally fake boyfriend,” Brendon supplied.

Spencer shot Brendon a dark look, because he knew how Ryan was about Spencer’s fake boyfriend thing, but Brendon looked unapologetic and way too amused. God, he regretted the day - and the beer, and the tequila - that he told them about the story he came up with. He’s grateful he had enough self-preservation to keep himself from mentioning that his fake boyfriend was in fact very specifically Brendon.

“Ah, of course. _The_ fake boyfriend. Who is Spencer’s high school sweetheart. His one true love forever, the one who makes him impervious to eye-roving assistants and their hypothetical gay friends, cousins and brothers,” Ryan nodded, the slight upturn of his lips giving away how much he was enjoying Spencer’s misery. “So can’t the totally amazing fake boyfriend just fake himself an excuse not to go to the gala?”

“I tried! But Mr. Preston was all like, no, why would he miss the most important date of your life ever, and oh god, guys, if I show up single, it’s going to be a disaster.”

“Spence, it’s gonna be okay,” Brendon said, getting up from the couch to give Spencer a hug.

“Yeah, seriously. I mean, they’re not gonna fire you for not having a boyfriend - they’re accountants!” Ryan exclaimed. When Spencer and Brendon both looked at him, lost, he rolled his eyes. “… they’ll only fire you if you make your clients lose money,” he added. “So, just. Don’t do that.”

“Right. Thanks, Ry.”

+

Spencer tried to put the whole gala mess out of his mind for the next week. He and Dallon were really busy with a new account - Clandestine, Inc. had just switched over to their firm and their books were a mess. At least Dallon was a nice guy to work with.

“Who the hell was doing the books for these guys? They’re just - argh.”

“I think nobody? Like, the owner was trying to do them himself, or something,” Dallon replied.

“The owner… as in, Pete Wentz? Pete Wentz was trying to do his own books?” Spencer asked, disbelieving.

“Yep.”

“Fuck my life.”

“Yep,” Dallon affirmed. “Hey, Anna told me you were taking your boyfriend to the gala - does this mean we finally get to meet the elusive Brendon Urie?”

Spencer fought the urge to facepalm. “Uh, looks that way.” 

“Awesome, I’ve been dying to meet him,” Dallon said. “He sounds like a really cool guy from what you’ve told us.”

Spencer closed his eyes. Brendon _was_ a really cool guy. Hell, he was pretty much the perfect guy, except for the fact that he wasn’t in fact dating Spencer. Which of course would never happen, because, hi? Why would Brendon - a successful, awesome musician who probably had, like, studio musician groupies (did those exist?) - ever want to date his old high school friend who was an accountant? Never, was the answer. Never.

“Hey, guys!” Ian popped into their office, interrupting Spencer’s mini-breakdown. “Ready for some lunch? A bunch of us are going down to JJ’s for some sandwiches.”

Dallon looked at Spencer with raised eyebrows. Spencer looked down at the piles of work they had to do. What the hell, it wasn’t going anywhere.

“Let’s go.”

When Ian said everyone, he really meant it, Spencer thought. Most of the junior accountants, Greta from Costumer Services, Sarah, the-assistant-who-started-it-all and her friend Anna… Jesus. 

“What are you getting?” Dallon asked him.

“Uh, the grilled chicken, I think.”

“Me, too. I’ll grab them for us, if you want - save me a seat?”

Spencer nodded, and just when Sarah turned to ask him something, he heard his name called.

“Spence?”

Oh, no. Oh, no, he knew that voice. With the hopeless dread of somebody about to be so fucking caught, Spencer looked up to see Brendon, Ryan and Brendon’s boss Patrick standing in front of their table.

“Hey, Spence!” Brendon beamed. “Patrick and I just finished recording and Ryan got out of class, so we decided to meet up for lunch - totally forgot your office was so nearby, we should’ve called you.” He paused to take a breath and seemed to notice he was being ogled by Spencer’s co-workers. “Um, are these the people you work with?”

For a second, Spencer contemplated how far he could get if he just made a run for it. He was fast, okay, he could totally get to a cab or something before they knew it. But then he’d have to face Brendon and Ryan tonight, and everyone at work, and, god. He just didn’t think he could make it as a penniless tambourine player. 

So, he took a deep breath, and decided the face the consequences of being too chicken-shit to say ‘I’m not interested.’

“Yeah, this is pretty much everyone - Andrew, David, Michel, Ian, Greta, Sarah and Anna,” he enumerated, pointing at each of them in turn. “Uh, everyone - this is Ryan, he’s my oldest friend, that’s Patrick Stump, and this is - this is Brendon.”

The effect was immediate. David and Michael started to whisper, Ian’s hair got all crazy, Anna gasped and Sarah actually kind of swooned. _Swooned._ Brendon took a furtive step away from her and looked at Spencer with wide, questioning eyes.

Spencer opened his mouth, still not knowing what the hell he was going to say, when he was interrupted.

“No way,” Dallon said from behind them, gesturing excitedly with the two sandwiches he was carrying. “This is Brendon? _The_ Brendon?”

Brendon looked nervously at the sandwiches and replied, “Um, yeah? I mean, unless Spence’s hiding another Brendon away.”

Everyone laughed as if it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. Ryan looked torn between amusement and dawning comprehension. Patrick just looked confused. And Spencer? Spencer wanted to die.

“Not likely!” Dallon told Brendon. “Oh, man, it’s so nice to finally meet you, dude. We’ve all heard so much about you from Spencer.”

“Thanks. It’s really nice to meet you, too,” Brendon replied, his ingrained manners clearly overcoming his confusion.

“Seriously - Spencer can’t shut up about you,” Sarah jumped in, and oh god, how many years would Spencer spend in jail if he killed her? “When he told me about you guys, I just died. It was so romantic! You started a band together and fell in love… and you guys are still together. It’s such an inspiration.”

“It really is,” Anna simpered next to her. “I couldn’t wait until the gala so we’d finally meet you, but surprise! You’re here!”

“Right. Uh. Surprise,” Brendon echoed, clearly trying to figure out the situation. His eyes moved from expectant face to expectant face until they landed on Spencer, and whatever desperate plea he read in his eyes, it seemed to make him understand what Spencer had done. He shook off the confusion and then give the table a big smile. “I’m Brendon. Spencer’s - Spencer’s boyfriend. It’s so nice to meet you all.”

Everyone said hello or cooed appropriately, and, god, Spencer hoped that was it and he could go die in peace or something now, but of course the torture wasn’t over.

“Well, Spencer? Aren’t you going to say hello properly?” Ian asked, and seriously, fuck that tiny guy. 

Sarah sort of shoved him out of his seat and he was standing in front of Brendon and, fuck, what? Did he have to kiss Brendon? Would Brendon hate him forever and then sue him for sexual harassment and then, like, force him to actually become a penniless tambourine player? 

But then Brendon was stepping closer and his eyes were warm and understanding. “It’s okay, Spence,” he whispered, leaning in and giving Spencer a soft, sweet kiss, and before he really knew what he was doing, Spencer was closing his eyes kissing him back, and oh god, it was perfect.

When Brendon leaned back, Spencer blinked his eyes open, speechless. 

“So, uh, I kinda have to get back to the studio, but I’ll see you when you get home, okay?” 

Spencer nodded, still in a kind of shock. He didn’t really register what Brendon told Dallon and Ian and the rest of the table, and then Brendon, Patrick and Ryan were leaving. Brendon shot him a last, soft smile, the smile Spencer loved best, and Ryan was already reaching for his phone to call everyone they knew and mock him forever, obviously, before texting Spencer to laugh at him.

Spencer watched them go, and he ate his grilled chicken, and he smiled at everyone’s comments on how handsome his boyfriend was, and he got back to work and tried to untangle Pete Wentz’s delusions of accountancy. He did all those things, but the only thought running through his mind, the one thing that was clear was _Brendon kissed me_.

+

When Spencer got home that night, he was surprised to find none of the usual clutter on the table - none of Ryan’s books and Brendon’s guitar strings and scrawled on scores and a couple of empty mugs for good measure. Instead, the table was set for two, and a couple of candles were lit, and something in the oven smelled great.

“Uh, Brendon? Ryan?”

“Hey, Spence.”

Spencer whirled around to see Brendon, coming out of his bedroom with a couple of CD’s, one of which he put in the stereo. 

Spencer felt weirdly out of sorts, like - like he wanted to grab Brendon and kiss him again and ask him if he meant it, and at the same time, he wanted to run away, to pretend today hadn’t happened at all because - because Brendon being into him was just something that Spencer had never really considered possible, and what if it was a joke? Spencer would die if Brendon just laughed it off.

And, still, out of all the possible things he could say, what came out of his mouth was, “Elvis Costello?”

Brendon shrugged. “He’s my go-to guy.”

“So, um. What’s all this?” Spencer gestured to the table and the kitchen.

Brendon walked slowly toward where Spencer was standing, this small, fond smile on his face. “Well, I heard the craziest thing today. It turns out I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, apparently, we’ve been in love since high school. And it looks like we’re a pretty great couple. An ‘inspiration’, apparently,” Brendon continued, taking Spencer’s hand in his. “But you know what sucks?”

Spencer swallowed. “What?”

Brendon looked up at him. “That my boyfriend never told me. Because if he had, I would’ve told him that I’ve been in love with him forever.”

“Forever?”

“Well. At least since I saw him bitching out a costumer who was mean to me at the Smoothie Hut while wearing a baby pink t-shirt with a unicorn on it.”

Spencer snorted a smile, and glanced down at their joined hands. “And, uh. If he told you now?”

Brendon smiled. “Well, then I’d say it’s a good thing I made dinner for two, because we have a lot of dates to catch up on.”

Spencer felt like he couldn’t breathe, his heart was racing so much. “Really, Bren?”

“Really.”

And Spencer had to kiss him, because he could now, for real. Forever.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [This Modern Love [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/368722) by [Fleur Rochard (fleurrochard)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurrochard/pseuds/Fleur%20Rochard)




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